Appreciation
by soulache
Summary: House is a man of fine tastes. HouseCameron pairing. Future chapters promised.
1. Birthmark Constellations

"If you had any decency at all you would at least turn around, House." Cameron slipped the buttons out of their holding on her gray tweed vest leaving her in a white cotton shirt. She dared a look up into his still water eyes and watched him calmly waiting for her to undress. Huffing out a little sound of frustration she tried once again, "House. You're not even supposed to be in here since that sexual harassment incident with Dr. Ramses."  
House seemed quite unimpressed by her speech and took his usual dry tone, "Firstly, I do have decency. It's buried deep inside of me next to my compassion and it's going to take a little more than a glance at your naked back to get my shovel out." She rolled her eyes figuring a response would be futile at this point, she undid a button on her blouse and then another. House watched with rapt attention examining her with the patience he would display to one of his medical puzzles.

"And secondly?" She prompted, unaware that he was staring so fixedly at the creamy flesh of her collarbone and the shadow playing in the hollow as she reached in her locker for her pink scrubs.

House cleared his throat thinking a reaction like this was proof that his special candy dosage had been sorely lacking, he fumbled into his pocket popping a pill into his mouth and swallowing. "Secondly, if I was sexually harassing you... my dear, you would know it." But would Cameron, he wondered. For all of her marriage, and relationships she seemed so innocent and unaware of her own appeal.

"What?" she replied caustically while drawing her shirt off her petite torso, "you mean the sight of my back isn't enough to drive men wild with sexual impulses?"

For House it seemed as if time stood still, there was only her and her moon glazed skin. So touchable, and so untouchable. A moral dilemma wrapped in complications standing under a bad omen. The desire was real enough for him. Like a tangible thing he could carry in his pocket, no dirty pun intended. His brain wasn't even functioning well enough for his autopilot sarcasm. Her subtle curves all but begging for the knowledge of his hands, his mouth. He took a step forward, quite unwillingly and as soon as he did the scrub shirt was back on. His sanity had returned and she was no longer Allison Cameron, just Cameron. Just one of his ducklings ripe for the medical jargon he could ramble off in his sleep. But still, that ache insisted that she was ripe and that that was not all she was ripe for.

He rolled his eyes at her, "Oh, 'fraid not kiddo." He laid a folder on the bench advising her to read it and left the room as quietly as he entered. Most men he was sure couldn't appreciate the sight of her bare back, the play of birthmark constellations at the base her her spines, the dimples peeking out for the loose pink cotton pants, and the slight tease of the hips flowing up into her tiny waist. No, most men couldn't appreciate Cameron at all.

But he wasn't most men.


	2. TicTac Threats

The shades were all drawn inside the boardroom where House sat alone. His feet were crossed at the ankle and his forehead was pressed flat against the table. When the door opened House didn't move to see Wilson observing him, hand still pressed against the knob of the door and eyebrow slightly raised in amusement.

Wilson continued to wait a few more seconds in silence expecting House to look up and face him with a smirk and snarky remark. None came though, House continued to breathe slowly in and out with his hands clenched on the tabletop. Wilson saw House's cane strewn recklessly on the floor and unable to resist picked it up and jabbed House in the side with it. That got his attention.

"Jesus Christ! Wilson, assaulting a cripple with his own walking aid? What's next, stealing candy from babies or pushing old ladies in front of cars?" He said as he grabbed his cane away from Wilson. "Don't you have some sort of sick patient to cure, or better yet a wife to cheat on?" Wilson just continued to silently stare at House. "What? What the hell do you want?"

"You look miserable. Well you always look miserable-"

"Thanks BFF." House muttered under his breath.

Wilson continued as if he had not heard him, "but you look more miserable today. This is like a whole new level of miserable. In fact, I haven't seen you look this miserable since you injected yourself to cause that migraine."

"Now I'm wondering why I even injected myself when I have you." House said rubbing his fingertips in circles on his temples in mock agony. He stood up and stretched his leg gingerly, walking his way over to the coffee. He grabbed out a pill and swallowed it down with the bitter tasting liquid. "Disgusting, why did I ever let Chase touch the coffee pot?" He asked eyes directed heavenwards.

"I'm just going to pretend those are tic-tacs." Wilson said shaking his head, "Now I know this cannot be medical. You love a good medical brainteaser. Hell, it's like foreplay to you." Wilson chuckled at his own joke and stopped suddenly, raising his eyes to House's. "That's it."

"I don't care how pretty you are Wilson, you wouldn't put a smile on my face."

Wilson caught himself before he sputtered and raised a hand to his well groomed hair. He continued to pace and smiled brightly, "You, my friend, have it bad." House opened his mouth to comment but Wilson just plowed on with the persistence of the the common cold. "I never thought I'd see the day, God. Who is it?"

House shuffled over to Wilson, putting his hand on Wilson white lab coat. He started pushing him towards the door, "Okay, girl talk is over. Get out. Some of us have actual work to do, lives to save."

"I just need a name. Just tell me who!" As House was pushing out Wilson poor Cameron was barreling in, eyes cast upon a folder. As she started to stumble ass-bound House immediately let go of Wilson's shoulder and grabbed onto her upper arm.

Wilson, smiling like a baboon opened his mouth. House pushed him further out the door, hand still grasping Cameron's upper arm and fixed him a glare. "If you value this pathetic thing you call a life I'd shut up." 


	3. Papercut Remedies

Cameron furrowed her eyebrows playfully and looked at House. She then took his hand off her arm, finding it hard to focus with him when there physical contact. "Do I want to know what that was about?" She asked as she continued to watch Wilson outside the window, placing a hand over his heart and making big, mooney eyes as he dramatically batted his eyelashes. As House began to draw the blinds she walked past him, setting the folder onto the table and turning once more to look up at him.

"Well, of course you want to know what that was about. People don't tend to ask rhetorical questions when they aren't curious," House quipped as he absently shuffled through some of the pages, "unfortunately, curiousity killed the cat. Or, you know, kitten in this case." As soon as the words left his mouth he immediatly regretted them. If Wilson had been here House was sure he'd never hear the end of it. You just don't call someone a kitten, even in a sarcastic tone. It's right up there with honeybuns, or sweetie pie, and the ever dreaded snookums.

But all he heard from Cameron was her laughter. Her pure, musical laughter. The type of laughter he had never heard from her before, and as soon as he had he immediately wanted to hear more of it as often as possible. He looked up at her, fighting the smile he could feel trying to claw it's way onto his face. Her eyes had little fragments of glittery stars in them, and her cheeks were flushed much like she would be if he kissed her. Unable to fully shake the image away he tried to distract himself by doing some damage control, "What do you need, Cameron?" 

Cameron shifted a little uncomfortably on her strapped encased feet, as her gaze lowered just slightly. Almost so slightly some people wouldn't have noticed the moment of sadness. The brief flash of longing, and pain. But as quickly as a cloud covers the sun, it disappeared and she grabbed the file from him and started to flip through it. "It appears our cancer patient also has a... Ouch! Crap," she said as she had pulled a piece of paper over her skin, efficently splitting the skin of her index finger.

House, without thinking grabbed her hand and very seriously eyed the papercut. He continued to hold her hand and pull her along until they were under the light and turned her hand from left, to right and back again gravely examining it. His voice slipped octaves lower as he spoke, "This is very bad. You know, alot of people brush off the papercut, they don't proceed with the proper treatment and it never heals. The patient of course will die, or if they're lucky get brought to me." He dramatically raised his eyebrow "Now, Allison, what is the proper procedure for a papercut?" House let his thumb caress her lifeline, watching her eyelids grow heavy. 

Cameron's voice trembled into the air, "I think I missed that day."

"This is the proper treatment for a papercut, now pay close attention." He lowered his mouth towards the almost non-existant injury. House's lips were surprsingly soft for such a hard, unyielding man. They brushed against her skin, causing currents of non-explainable electricity down her spine. Then, carefully, as if not to scare her his tongue touched her finger. Just for a second.

A soft, warm second.


	4. Sadness Leper

The second disappeard on cat's feet, silent and indifferent at it's own presence. Blue met blue in a stare of shock, and unreleased desires. They were stuck a moment, inside of a moment, inside of themselves. There didn't seem to be anything else to do but stare in question at eachother. House could not read Cameron's eyes, except for the obvious screaming doubt in them. He was sure she was wondering why now, why after she had given him the opportunity would he choose to do this now, wondering why after this time when she could finally bear to look at him again, why he was doing this at all? Was it because he wanted her? Was it just another typic teasing scenario he would set her in, switching up the variables to see her reactions? He could almost hear her asking him all those questions at once, but he could not make his answers form.

Now, it was as if they were on opposite sides of the earth except for the two hands joined underneath the light. Cameron was the first to break the contact, drawing her hand away from him slowly, as if afraid she might break her bones at the movement. Or perhaps it was just the effort that the movement costed her. "House, what...?" her voice trailed off, small and childlike. Unlike the woman he had just had his lips on, unlike the woman who had shudder at his touch, and held her breath at the feel of him.

House immediatly snapped his head back from the clouds it was in. Her voice was all it had took, her voice shaken and unsure of herself. This was not a woman he could ruin, this was not a woman his hands could touch no matter how bad he ached to. "What, what Cameron? Can you not even finish a sentence with me standing this close?" The words hurt her, seemed to taint the moment. Turned it from a soft, warm second into a mistake.

Cameron looked down again, her eyes clear and almost cold. But it was the same look, the same brief flash of something more. Something that had seemed to be growing inside of her lately, a sadness that was almost a tangible thing. It brushed it's hand against House's guarded heart, and walked out with the fluidty of silk in the warm summer air. She looked back up with her mouth set in a hard line, and her cheeks flushed with anger, or perhaps humiliation. "I may have missed that day, but every doctor knows not to let someone contagious kiss your open wounds."

Wiping her hand against her pant leg she walked out, wishing she could wipe the feel of him away that easily.


	5. Dont Tell Me It's Not Worth Fighting For

Cameron sat on one of the benches nearing the hospital parking-lot. The bench was old, and underneath a tree currently providing shade from the sun that was not present. It was beginning to get a little cool outside for this, and most of the staff had all slowly began to take their lunches inside to reside in the cafeteria. Surely, she would have loved to do the same but she could not risk having to face House a second sooner than she had to. Her lunch sat pathetically in it's brown bag, and she stared at it in contempt, she wasn't even hungry. Cameron's stomach had been tied in knots since she walked out of that room. A part of her, the typical Cameron part felt bad about her parting words. But it was the only way to handle the rejection, especially since she had no idea what she had done wrong.

With a sigh she poked at the paperbag with a finger, and watch it topple onto it's back. Lost in her thoughts she didn't hear the approaching footsteps and almost parted with her skin when she heard someone calling her name from not far behind her. She didn't have to turn her head to recognize the voice, and the accent it carried. "Cameron!" 

Taking a deep breath, and trying to steel herself for the question that she knew would be coming she turned her head slightly to see Chase's blonde hair and tiny smile. "Hey Chase. What're you doing out here?" Lifting her legs, she turned her body around to face him as he came to a stop infront of her, his hands in his jacket pocket.

"Wouldn't want to miss such a beautiful day," he said sarcastically, "I can understand why you would want to eat your lunch out here, under the clouds that are in all likelyhood considering snowing." Cameron rolled her eyes and continued to wait him out in silence. After a minute had passed he gestured towards the parkinglot, jingling the keys that were inside of his pocket. "I forgot my drink inside the car, it must've fell out of my bag this morning. Does this have something to do about House?"

Cameron groaned aloud. "Yes, of course this has something to do with House. Because Cameron's poor, pathetic life revolves around the inflated ego. You know, kind of like the earth and the sun," she grumbled as she picked up her bag and walked towards the trash can to throw out her not touched lunch.

"You know I didn't mean it like that," Chase said, "I'm just concerned for you. And slightly angry at the possibility of House continuing to play with your heart." The second his kind blue eyes met hers she knew it was true. "You're better than this Cameron. You don't need him."

"I want him." She felt no need to hide the truth when it was so easily read on her face. She didn't want Chase to get any misconceptions about her feelings towards him as she felt like he was her big brother, a kind friend watching over her.

"As much as I wish you didn't," he said sadly, "I have to ask you what you're going to accomplish out here pouting."

"Then what exactly do you suggest?" she asked as she wrapped her jacket lapels closely together.

Chase ran a hand through his hair. He spoke without hesitiations, or self-pity, "Chances are the vulnerabilty in you-"

"But I'm not-" she cut him off.

"Yes, you are. House likes to fix things, it makes him feel worthwhile. Like he can balance out all the pain, but the thing is you're not broken. You're just vulnerable, and easily hurt. That's probably why he's pushing you away, because he can't fix you but he can break you."

"Again, all I'm looking for is an answer. Not a psychoanalyzation."

"If he's really want you want..."

Cameron nodded solemnly. "He is, Chase." 

"Then fight for it. Fight for him. "


	6. The Battle Plan Of A Devious Mind

Cameron layed awake that night, decisions to be made whirling in her mind. She was fantasizing actually, but telling herself that made her less ashamed about the reality of it. There were so many possibilities to capture House, to spark his interest, to make him want her as much as she wanted him. The first involved talking, a slow weave of words. The things she would need to say would have to be blantantly sensual, would have to be to the point and detailed. She imagined walking up to him in the parking lot, describing how she would want him to press her up against her car, to feel his arousal growing against her, to feel his lips turning hers to bruises and the blood rushing hot under her skin. But she would not touch him, just whisper to him when no one else was close, just to have him hear all the things she wanted him to do to her, all the things she wanted to do to him, all the thing he would never think she could want with him. When he was intrigued, when he reached a hand out to touch her that is when she would walk away, swinging her hips like the beat of her heart that was doing double time from even thinking about it.

The second option was a little trickier. A slow, teasing seduction that would have to be planned, and unwrapped layer by layer. Standing a little too close to him when he spoke so he could smell her skin scent, the winding vanilla and lavendar floral of her hair. Touching his arm when she spoke to him, and once he was used to that, moving her fingers in light circles against the fabric of his shirt. Looking into his eyes, and licking her lower lip subtly, arching her eyebrow, huffing out small sighs during the day. Brushing up against him when she went to take files from him. Then after the thought had been planted in his head she would have to get a little more daring, unbuttoning one or two extra buttons when she was alone with him, rubbing her neck as if she had a pain. Skirts and no underwear, slowly crossing and uncrossing her legs knowing only he could see and pretending she didn't know. Stretching her body like a lithe cat, pulling her shirt taut against her perky breasts, moaning softly as she pretended to feel the heat in her muscles as reached for the ceiling. Dropping pens, preferably close to House's feet, so when she bends to get it the image that would come to his mind would be unstoppable, and then slightly losing her balance to rub her body against his.

The third option would take a whole lot of bravery. Cameron would get him alone, somehow, and as he's leaning against the wall, spouting his oh-so-snarky remarks she would throw herself at him. She would grab his face and smash her lips against his, she wouldn't take her time. It would be hot, and demanding. It would be a clash of teeth, and lips, and tongues. It would be greedy, and hard, and breathless. It would be all the desire she had pent up inside of her tiny little body for him unfurling. Her hands would wander, feeling his sinew form, feeling the muscles under his skin. Fingers underneath his shirt exploring, claiming, making him hers. She would sink her teeth into his bottom lip until he moaned into her mouth so she could swallow it. She would kiss his neck, her tongue sweeping against his hammering pulse, her teeth grazing against his sensitive curve towards his ear. She'd tortue it, suckling on the lobe, breathing her whispering breath into his ear, breathing his name in such reverence. She would let his hands slide up her spine, feel her soft skin, the barely noticeable ladder of her ribcage, circling around to her bellybutton and up to her breasts as her breath hitched and his calloused fingertips brought her nipples to aching peaks. Her hands dipping low down his stomach as she kissed back to his mouth, while her fingers dipped into the waist of his pants...

Smothering a frustrated moan at her own thoughts she rolled over, and clenched her thighs against her own arousal. She knew what she had to do, and the choice already made up in her devious mind she said a little prayer to whatever God was listening. She now had her plan, and all she was the opportunity to implement it.


	7. Say Please, Please

House was not wishing the morning to come as quickly as it did, in fact it was as if the morning was holding a gun to his head. Sure, he wasn't very open about his feelings. So maybe he didn't recognize the horrible gnawing sensation in his gut but it was regret. He had Cameron, the woman he couldn't get out of his dreams, infront of him. Her cheeks were flushed and she was so ready to be kissed, so ready to learn, so ready to be owned. And what did he do? Insult her. But, he reminded himself, it was for the best. She was too fragile to ever be with him. He was not built for relationships, and he was saving her from a world of heartache.

He leaned his cane against a car door as slightly bent to retrieve his backpack. After a few seconds he felt a small hand on his back, precariously close to his butt. Then he heard soft, almost husky laughter. Laughter that sounded like Cameron, but of course, couldn't be Cameron. This was a woman's laugh.

"I couldn't help but admire the view," Cameron's voice floated into his ears. He felt his groin tighten of it's own accord. A million images already floating through his mind. He swallowed hard as her finger drew small circles onto the small of his back.

Despite his best intentions he couldn't bring himself to move himself from her touch quite yet. "Cameron, did you eat a bowl of crazy for breakfast?"

She chuckled and he felt her hand slide down a little further. "No, are you offering though?"

"What?" His voice cracked and he silently cursed himself for the momentary show of weakness. He slowly righted himself and found his back crushed against her breasts, thighs against thigh. She moved away just enough for him to face her, and he leaned against the car.

"Are you offering me a bowl of crazy? Because I could just eat you up." Her small, pink tongue flicked out to lick her lower lip and her eyes took on a look he had never seen before. A hungry look. Like he was her last chance at a meal. But she was not desperate, just appreciative knowing she deserved the chance to feed.

"That was lame Cameron, even for you. But you do look starving." He let his ice blue eyes wander over her lithe frame, and to his surprise she didn't blush, and her eyes didn't drop to the ground. 

She stepped a little closer, and he could smell her, breathe her in. Almost. She layed the index finger of her right hand on his chest, toying thoughtfully with one of the buttons of his shirt. She cocked her chin up at him, "Not starving. That isn't really the right word. Maybe a few weeks ago it would've been starving. Having to see you working, having to see you with your strong hands against that stupid oversized tennis ball. I've never been so jealous of an inanimate object. That, that was starving. A small, timid kind of starving. But now it's different. I'm not starving anymore. I'm..." She stopped speaking and tilted her head to the side considering the appropriate word.

"Delirious?" House suggested in a slightly sarcastic voice. But his hands didn't stop her as she played with the button of his shirt. His hands didn't grab her shoulder and move her away from him.

Cameron laughed again. "You're so cute. No, I'm not delirious. I'm ..." House went to interrupt her again but she cut him off, "Ravenous."

"If that's the case we must not pay you enough here," he tried to joke and pass the situation off. He seemed to be the one who wasn't ready for this now.

"Not for food. For you. I'm ravenous for you. And I'm going to have you. Several times. Several long, sweaty, exhausting times. I'm going to have you until you can't remember having anyone else. I'm going to have you over and over and over again. And when you think I'm done, I'll start once more from the beginning. I'm going to have you until you can't remember my name, until you can't remember your own name. I'm going to have you in so many different ways, so many creative ways you'll want to thank me. But of course, I'll have had you so well you'll be semi-concious," she smiled up at his completely shocked expression and took a step closer, "But that's okay."

He could feel himself growing against the constraint of his jeans and when her soft thigh brushed up against him he lost it. Moving quickly, and completely untethered by his bad leg he grabbed her by the hips and swung her up against the car. He moved his lips close to hers, and when she was about to fill the gap he bypassed her and buried his face in her floral neck. His lips grazing the arch in a caress of hot satin.

"House..." She half-whispered. He could feel her breathing grow shallow, and feel the race of her pulse.

Placing his lips against her ear he began to have his say, "Cameron. Did you think I would ever let you just come after me? Did you ever think I would lay passively as you had me? Did you think it would be so easy? If anyone is going to have anyone, I'm going to have you. I'm going to drive you crazy, and I'm going to make those sweet babycheeks of your blush. I am going to kiss you until you can't remember any other use for your lips. I'm going to touch you in way you've only dreamt about. I'm going to make you beg for it, for me. I'm going to make your toes curl, your back arch, and when you least expect it I'm going to make you stop. I'm going to tease you, horribly and without mercy until you cannot take it for a second more. I'm going to seduce you, in fact, I'm going to seduce you much sooner than you could ever seduce me."

"You think so? Because in the matter of one night I've had you almost kissing me, pushing me away, and backing me up against car. In fact, I think I could get you to break long before I ever will." She licked her lips as she left his travel briefly against the shell of her ear.

"Really? Now this is getting even more interesting," he shifted his hips slightly and pressed himself against her, "How about a friendly bet?"

She smiled, though he couldn't see it he could sense it. "Do continue."

"The first one to seduce the other person wins."

"Wins what?"

"Whatever they want," He sighed sinfully into her ear. His large fingers brushing against her smooth skin of her collarbone.

"And what about rules? How do we know who's won? And what is off limits?" She questioned, wanting to know exactly what she would need to make this the most pleasurable experience for House.

"Obviously seduction constitutes as sex. But for now, we'll just go with whoever says please first because that will lead to it. Obviously we're going to keep this private but other than that nothing, absolutely is off limits. Except for me losing. It just won't happen." He moved his head and kissed her hard. His lips bruising against her, not asking, but taking. His tongue thrusting in, invading her, tasting her. And she kissed him back, bringing her teeth to graze against his bottom lip, giving back as good as she was getting. Quickly he bit her bottom lip, winked at her and went to saunter off.

Not to be outdone she pinched his butt as he went to walk away. He turned to gaze back to her and she was smiling impishly and looking well kissed. But not as well kissed as she would look when she was moaning, "please."


	8. Debate On The Properties Of Black

A.N: Lesson 1 ) Apparently enough reviews will make me update when I abandon my story. So keep em coming guys, I love to hear from you and what exactly you want to happen next, you never know... I just might steal your idea!

Oh, and story dedication of course! It's going out to someone who is the best person I've ever met for watching TV with. This wonderful work of smut is dedicated to Mandi. Even though you like Cuddy, and she looks like a horse. -whickers.-

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Cameron had perfected the sigh. It came in handy when other company was present besides just House and herself. She would tilt her head back a little, and arch her back while she breathed this soft sigh. It had been driving House to distraction. It was an imitation of what he knew he could have if he only would say that one word. It was the exact way she would look and sound when he had has hard, aching cock fully embeded in her, when he finally possessed her. Then his mind went from that to the image her rocking ontop of him, her swaying breasts heavy with passion, her rosey nipples shiney from his saliva. He wanted to push the files off of his desk, he wanted to slam her against, to make her pay just for being as beautiful as she was. He wanted to bury himself in her until he was a part of her, until she was a part of him, until the orgasms echoed and tripped over one another. But he couldn't give in. House was sure she would break soon, after all, it had already been an hour. He groaned deep in his throat as if he was in pain. Gregory House was doomed.

Cameron's eyes quickly flitted to his face as he groaned, and she couldn't tell if he was mocking her sighs but found herself more turned on than she already had been. She squeezed her thighs against the arousal building behind her black panties. She wondered if House would like her choice, and knew she would find out soon enough if she had her way. When House's eyes met hers they seemed angry, no, not angry. Tumultuous. Passionate. His gaze stripped her bare, and touched her in her most intimate spots. She felt goosebumps rise all over her body, and marvelled at the effect he had on her from all the way across the room. When Chase, and Foreman finally filed out into the hallway Cameron stayed behind and walked up to House in slow, sultry strides.

When Cameron reached his side she stood on her tiptoes and whispered into his ear, "Five points if you can guess what colour panties I'm wearing?"

He looked down at her reasonable skirt, took in the sight of her toned calves and chuckled under his breath. "Ten points if you aren't wearing any... okay, I can tell from your lack of response that's a no. Shame Cameron, you could've used my points for very interesting things. I'm going to guess blue." Cameron shook her head and House noticed the way the light caught the red tint in her hair, and the way it fell smoothly against her neck. "Well, little girl, put me out of my misery."

"They're lacey, barely there, and drumroll please, they're black."

"Hah. It's nice to know you match your shirt and underwear, but what kind of trick question was that? Everybody knows black's not a colour." House stated as his blunt fingertip slipped under her sleeve and brushed the sensitive underside of her arm. She shook and he imagined what it would be like to put his mouth there, his tongue there.

She wrapped her finger around his and looked up at him. "In terms of perception, black like grey and white, is an achromatic colour. A colour without hue and saturation."

House brought his hand up to his mouth, and nibbled on the inside of her wrist as he spoke between darts of his warm tongue, "In terms of physical, black refers to a total absence of visible radiation. Then if there is no physical stimulus there can be no physiological response. No response, no perception, no colour."

Cameron tilted her head to the side and studied his face, she pulled back her hand and went around the room drawing the shades. She walked back up to him, pushing him back against the wall. Then she brushed her lips against his, whisper-soft. Her tongue playfully slid over his bottom lip begging for access and when he wasn't quick enough to grant it her teeth sunk down into his flesh. He moaned, quietly, but moaned none the less. Encouraged by the sign she slid her hands under his jacket and dug her nails into his crisp shirt underneath. His muscles quivered. Then finally she let go of his lip and his mouth opened, and before her tongue could invade his mouth, his tongue invaded hers. It rubbed against her slowly, flickingly and teasingly. It made her imagine his tongue somewhere else, somewhere more sensitive, more pink, more wet.

Cameron pushed his head back against the wall and a framed certaificate rattled. Her free hand slid up to his hair and made itself at home as her lips continued to shift shapes against his. Hard, soft, hard, soft. Open, closed, open, closed. His unyielding thigh came up between her legs, and she thanked God she had not worn a pencil skirt, the fabric rose until his hard muscle was roughly pressed against her heat. She did what came naturally, what was as old as time, she rocked her hips, rubbing herself against him and getting what pleasure she could. House kept his hands on her hips, and moved his lips from her jaw down to neck. His tongue swept in all the right places, and his teeth grazed with just the right pressure as he continued to urge her on. Cameron's breathing became laboured and House thought his cock was about to burst in his jeans. Her cheeks were flushed, and he could see her eager nipples jutting against the fabric of her shirt. It was here where he decided to up the a little bit.

"Cameron, doesn't that feel good? It looks like it feels good. You just can't hold still, can you?" Cameron shuddered and continued moving, barely hearing him. "That's right, keep going. You're a good girl, aren't you Cameron? At least I thought you were, I'm not so sure anymore. I know your pussy is basically weeping for me, isn't it? I can feel it starting to soak my thigh. Just think, think how much better it would feel if it were to be me inside of you instead of your muscles contracting at nothing. Just think how I would feel sliding against your walls, fast. Then slow. Then slower. Then fast again. Think Cameron. All you have to do is say please."

She was so close to coming, and her voice was hoarse, "I can't. I won't say please first." House knew the war wasn't over and that it was only the beginning, but he took his victories where he could. His one hand slip up her tapered waist, up the delicate ladder of her ribcage to pinch the nipple that was pleading for attention. His other large hand kept pace on her hips as he watched her beautiful face contort in pleasure. As he heard her climax for the first time. As he heard her moan his name.

Shamelessly after several moments Cameron was still ravenous. She put her tiny hand on the swollen erection pressing against the fly of his jeans and started to rub up and down. She looked him in the eye, and felt him squirm. "Say it, House. For fuck sake, just say it."

"Okay," he breathed out shakily, softly admitting his defeat, "Okay, you win. Black_ is _a colour." 


	9. Seamless

At the end of the day all Cameron wanted was dinner and sex with House. Not in that order, of course. Sex with House was fairly impossible currently as he wouldn't say that one, small word. So she'd have to settle for the one that was easily accessible, dinner. Leaning down she undid the straps of her heels and kicked them off to the side of her door. After hanging her jacket on her coat rack she quickly walked to her bedroom and changed into a pink pair of pajama shorts, and a white tank top. After that Cameron took a quick stop in the bathroom, pulled her hair up and washed her face then took her hair back down enjoying the way the soft strands played over her ivory shoulders.

She grabbed a microwave meal out of her freezer and popped it in. Yes, Cameron could cook, cook well in fact. But at the end of a long day the last thing she really wanted to do was slave over a hot stove for a meal for one. It would be nice to be with someone, to be with... She shook her head at the direction her thoughts were taking. House didn't want to be with her. Well, he wanted to be with her. He just didn't want to date her. And that was fine. For now. Didn't mean she couldn't use everything at her disposal to lure him into her wicked web. She smiled an secret, evil smile. Is this what it felt like to be House? It was powerful.

With a practiced hand she flicked on her stereo and made a face at all the gooey love songs. Sure, she loved her indie girl music. What girl didn't? Well, lots of girls probably. She grabbed for a different disk to put in. It was still a little offbeat, but weren't all her tastes? The music flooded her apartment building, blasting through the speakers smoothly.

_She smelled like 2am  
Took him back to her place  
Where all the saints adorn the walls  
Delivering her from grace  
He knew he should leave  
That this could only turn cold  
She was a bad bad girl  
So he told her so_

The song wasn't fast by any means but she felt the beat strongly, like it was connected to her hips causing them to sway without her permission. She loved to dance, but only in the privacy of her own home. She liked knowing she could dance as primal, as erotically as she wanted to. Not that she had a stripper pole or anything. She just liked pure movements, honest moments in the dance. Where lust overtook and you wouldn't think twice about running your hand up your stomach, across the length of your inner thighs.

_Under the shadows of doubt  
He had the whisper of lust  
He said no touching tonight  
She closed her eyes in his trust  
She said tuck me in  
He knew his judgement was sound  
Still he pulled back the sheets_

Vaguely she heard the microwave whine it's nasal beep. She ignored it. Cameron wanted to dance right now, it was the closest she would get to sex. She knew she could touch herself but that was so hollow. This at least would work her up, make her muscles slip into desire, make sweat glisten on her flawless flesh. She dipped low very slowly and the back beat and rolled her hips. It was a move she learned somewhere back in the hazy university parties. You had to balance just so on the balls of your feet, and push your pelvis just right or you would topple straight over. She grabbed the remote as the chorus, her favorite part came on and jacked the volume.  
_  
And said you better lie down cause the angels are watching  
She closed her eyes and said quit the talking  
You can hurt me do whatever you like_

As a bead of presperation dripped down between her breast, as she was half way through her turn her breath caught in her lungs. House was standing in her apartment. Her door was shut. She knew he must have walked in come the chorus when the volume was too loud to hear anything but the base. She pulled back a strand of hair stuck to her neck and tried to will her heartbeat to slow but she couldn't. It wasn't the exertion of the dance, it was those dominating blue eyes. She felt like a rabbit trapped with a wolf. Was that a bad comparision? Her brain wasn't functioning.

"Hou-"

_Her every word was in italics  
As it would fall from her lips  
The walls made of broken promises  
He hoped this wouldn't be his  
She said tell me what to do  
He knew right then he was done  
Feeling lonely and confused_

His strong, calloused hands were cupping her softly flushed cheeks. Before she could finish forming the rest of his name his tongue was in her mouth. With one hand around the small of her back, and the other hand directing his cane as he walked her backwards and her shoulder blades slammed ungraciously on her cd rack. House's teeth tugged sharply at her earlobe. His tongue dragged down her neck, following the invisible trail the bead of sweat left before it disappeared between the swell of her breasts.  
_  
He said you better lie down cause the angels are watching  
She closed her eyes and said quit the talking  
You can hurt me do whatever you like  
So he said shut your mouth girl the angels are listening_

Her breath caught once again in her lungs, causing her breasts to rise closer to his face. House's tongue trailed greedily over the pale mounds. She raised herself onto her tippy-toes and allowed his lips to graze lower as he took her erect nipple into her mouth, tank top and all. Her fist banged against the cd's and several tumbled to the floor as she thanked God she had chosen not to put that damn bra on. Cameron could feel both his teeth, and the abrasive material graze her sensitive nipple and her legs turned to boneless, smooth rivers. More cd's fell to the floor. _  
_  
_You better lie down cause the angels are watching  
She closed her eyes and said quit the talking  
You can hurt me do whatever you like  
She crossed herself now the moments are missing  
You can hurt me do whatever you like_

Grabbing his head by the ears she yanked him rougly back up to her and began nibbling on his bottom lip, pressing herself against his erection with a constant pressure. Grinding. His hands found her hips, and quickly she stopped what she was doing. Unwilling to have a repeat of earlier today she bit into his neck eliciting a sharp intake of air from him, and then licked the wound better. His skin tasted salty. His skin tasted sweet. His skin tasted like House. Black. White. Good. Bad. Nothing mattered. Nothing but his hands snaking up under her shirt to cup her bare breasts. __

Glancing through the curtains  
Questions on her tongue  
She spoke in third person  
And he had seen every one  
Awkward and admitted  
Said shut the door when you go  
Perhaps he should have reconsidered (oh no)

The rough pads of his fingertips hurt in the sweetest way against her tortured, puckered flesh. She was shaking her head back and forth, the thickness of her hair softening the blows of edges on the cd cases. Her hand snuck down between their bellies and tugged his hands out from under her shirt. She shook her head at him and turned him by the shoulders so his back was where hers once was. She slid her curves down his lean frame until she was on her knees before him. 

"Camer... Alli-"

"Shh," she whispered on a hot breath as her tongue darted out to lick right above the belt on his jeans.

_When he said you better lie down cause the angels are watching  
She closed her eyes and said quit the talking  
You can hurt me do whatever you like  
So he said shut your mouth girl the angels are listening_

Cameron unbuckled his belt, removed it, tossed it somewhere to her left. It didn't matter. All that mattered was that her fingers had the button to his pants undone and soft, sexy hair was just starting to peek-a-boo at her. She ran her fingernails over it and House hissed in response. She began tugging his pants down and she could feel him grow self-conscious of his leg so she tossed off her shirt to distract him as much as she could, and whispered that it didn't matter. That he was perfect, which was true to her, not just whispered words in a moment of passion. He seemed to sense it and quit the slight inner struggled and looked down at her breasts. She freed his erection from his boxers and licked the tip that was now glistening with pre-cum. She cupped his balls and squeezed gently, running her tongue up his shaft and taking as much as him into her mouth as she could. She continued to kiss, suck, and lick him into a frenzy. She continued until there were no cd's left on the rack, and he was sweating, moaning, breaking.

"Greg... just say it. I could be yours. Tonight. Please, just say it. You know you'll win either way." With that she flicked her tongue on the underside of his cock and he shuddered. And then he did something House never did.

"Please," his hands in her hair, her lips on his swelling flesh, his fingertips on her neck, her tongue catching his moisture, his need overlapping her need, her need overlapping his. Seamless.

_She crossed herself now the moments are missing  
You can hurt me do whatever you like_


	10. Don't You Forget About Me

_You, you say you don't see any part of me  
To love in all this mess and I know  
You take the good and all the bad that comes with me_

The songs continued to switch as House tugged her by her hand into her bedroom but he couldn't hear them with her breasts exposed. They were heavy with desire, nipples erect and straining for a touch he was more than happy to oblige them with. His fingers teasingly tweaked one, and when Cameron's breath hissed out he quirked up his eyebrows in that all familiar way. It drew a smile from her, those pink lips curving lazily towards the ceiling, those swollen and soft lips. His eyes could get lost on the canvas of her face, the angles and hollows, the colours and textures, the shadows and shades. He sat himself on the edge of the bed, pants long ago discarded on the trip here, boxers lying spent somewhere on her wooden floors. His arousal unashamedly erect and thick, looking for the comfort of her small hands, her generous lips, her wet heat.

_And both hands  
Now use both hands  
Oh, no don't close your eyes  
I am writing graffitti on your body  
I am drawing the story of how hard we tried_

His strong hand reached out to grab her by the back of her neck, forcing her to bend at the waist to meet his rough kiss. It was a clash of teeth, and tongues. A battle for the upperhand, who needed who worse, who had the control in a situation that had long ago spiralled beyond all hope. She had to break apart first for air, he was simply drinking from her lungs, borrowing her breath to stay longer. His tongue traced under her ear causing her fingers to stumble as she went to undo the buttons on his shirt. Then his teeth met the lobe of her ear and bit hard. Her hand nearly jerked off the wrist. Tongue sliced down the long column of her neck. Hand shaking. He bit where her neck and shoulder met, and drew hard. His shirt buttons parted company with his shirt, the flimsy thread attatching them together broken. She looked shocked, he looked pleased. House guided her hands to his now bare shoulders.

_She's the kind of girl you bring home to your mother  
She looks good in blue jeans even better under covers  
She's a devil in bed between the sheets  
Ask her if she's a saint and she'll get down on her knees  
And pray_

Fragments. The music continued to change at what seemed every breath. He heard guitars, different voices, different beats. It was hard to keep up so he decided not to. House leaned his head forward until his lips were around one of her protruding nipples. He sucked, and teased, and grazed, and tortured until she was shifting on her legs. Trying to find some sort of relief for the ache between her thighs that he promised himself he would throughly examine. Later. After he punished her as much as he could for breaking him. Her voice broke as she whimpered his name, his tongue drew the outline of her other downy globe. Her hands ran up to his lightly salt and peppering hair, finger locked and tugging greedily as she pushed herself up into him. Suffocation of the sweetest kind.

_And it will be more like a song  
And less like its math  
If you pull on my hair, and bite me like that_

He pulled down her pajama shorts, underwear and all in one swift movement. House's peircing eyes took in her smooth skin, the slight chesnut curls and breathed in the scent of her. Watched the curve of her hips to thighs. Her stomach flat, but round. Soft. All over, she was soft. And small. But her eyes were spitting fire when he looked up into them and he knew she was strong. Strong enough to take him.   
House scooted back until his head was resting on her pillow, his feet dangling slightly off the bottom of her bed.

"Get your beautiful butt up here, Cameron," he demanded.

_He tries to impress her, mentally undress her  
It takes more to possess her  
But in his pocket lies a hole  
He's got a thousand talents  
Charisma by the bagful  
Aristocratic parents  
A rebel with a heart of gold_

She crawled up him, stopping at his cock to swiftly run her mouth up and down the length of it. House had to stop her quickly before he came. She stadled his lower stomach, the globes of her beautiful butt in question rubbing against his shaft. He grit his teeth as images of taking her from behind filled his mind. Another time, he told himself. "How's this?" Her voice purred into his ear as her playful fingers darted over his own sensitive nipples.

"Higher," House instructed in a no-nonsense voice. She scooted further up until she was rest herself above his bellybutton. Her folds slightly parted, and he could feel her wetness pressed against his hot flesh. He though this would embarrass her, but infact she rocked slightly trying to get a rythm going. He wanted to laugh, but it was stuck somewhere in his mind. He grabbed her hips and shook his head. "Higher, Cameron."

"Any higher and I'll be -" 

"Right where I can give you the most pleasure. Up, up." 

"House... I've never..."

"Oh God, you're a virgin!" He hit his forehead stupidly, voice clearly mocking her, "listen. I won't hurt you. Just trust me, okay? Besides, if things are really bad just bear down." He winked and she couldn't help but roll her eyes and laugh.

He directed her up until she was poised over his mouth and slowly she felt a tongue part her lower, pinker, more swollen lips. She groaned, lowering herself to get closer to the sweet torture. He licked up her walls, first one than the other. Then back again, all the while avoiding where she craved the pressure of his tongue the most. Cameron didn't taste sweet, she tasted spicy. Heady. Something he could easily get drunk on, something he was already drunk on. His tongue darting inside of her and out, mirroring the mating ritual. Her bones melted and she pressed herself more firmly against him. Then after she had begged, and pleaded with him through her sobs did he take pity on her. He drew his tongue up over her clitoris and her spine seemed to shudder. He took the erect flange of flesh in his mouth and sucked, flicking the tip of his tongue against the raised knob. When she tried to wiggle away he followed her until he brought her to a bed shaking, lung shaking, earth shaking orgasm.

_No! She won't, she won't, she won't wait!  
No! She won't, she won't, she won't wait!  
No! She won't, she won't, she won't wait!  
No! She won't, she won't, she won't!_

Her body was draped over him, the weight and smell of sweat on her was sweet. He enjoyed the feeling, and found himself whispering foreign phrases to her as he placed a kiss ontop of her head. When she finally gained the strength back in her arms she pulled herself up and looked at him. Something in her gaze had shifted, but then she smiled that smile. The "I-ate-the-canary-and-am-not-feeling-remorse" smile, and his thoughts fled. His chest swelled with something akin to pride knowing that she would always remember this. Knowing by the tinge of wonder in her baby blues that she had never felt quite this intently before. She smiled, and at his nod slid down until she was positioned on the head of his straining cock.__

_(Beating Heart Baby)  
Baby is this love for real?  
(Beating Heart Baby)  
Let me in your arms to feel  
(Beating Heart Baby)  
The beating of your heart, baby  
(Beating Heart Baby)  
The beating of you heart, baby_

Cameron. She lowered herself onto him and he found himself sunk into endless warmth. She moved on him, against him, with him. Changed from her hands holding his hips down to set the pace, to his shoulders as she rolled her hips, to even touching herself. She was greedy, and he was greedy, and they were racing towards the end with no thoughts of holding back. Fingertips bruised flesh, hers, his, it didn't matter. Fingernails, hers, drew blood. Teeth, his, followed suit against her bottom lip. She like that, the roughness, but the tender attention his tongue payed her afterwards. They were moving flawlessly, recklessly, almost angrily. Careening towards bliss. His voice, deep and gravely said her name as his finger squeezed her nipple, and as if on cue she came again. She clenching and pulsating was too much for House and he followed, headfirst, after her.  
_  
__"I'm not cold," she said,  
but she's shaking as she's lying next to me naked.  
Pulled the hair back from her face to let that smile heat this place.  
And this feels so far from real.  
I'm lost and I love it._

For an hour they drifted on and off, bodies tangled like shoelaces. Limbs weak from movement, from desire. Then finally House decided it was time to go home, get his vicodin, and catch shower. Cameron quietly helped him gather his clothes, white sheet wrapped around her exhausted body. He dressed, she watched and walked him to the door. He smiled down at her, his most charming and still slightly evil smile.

"I guess you won, little girl."

"I guess I did," her voice answered back softly.

"Who knew you had that in you? So, the bet was whoever won could have whatever they want. What do you want Cameron?" Part of him was afraid. Afraid she would ask him to be with her, ask him for something he could not give. Part of him needed her to. Hoped she would, though he'd never admit it. He knew she must have considered it and was waiting for the words her was sure was coming.

"Just remember me, House," she said almost inaudibly as she opened the door and gently pushed him outside, "Just think about me." 

And with that the door clicked shut holding a note of finality in the turning of her lock. 

FINI

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo

I just want to thank everyone who read this fanfiction, and left their encouraging comments for me. This was my first fanfiction and I never would've believed it would be so well recieved. I would gladly appreciate (ha, get it? Appreciation. Lame) if you read this story to leave a comment, and let me know what you think/thought.

There may be a second part of this story. I haven't decided yet. But I knew this story couldn't end exactly happily, and that Cameron had to walk away for her own reasons. After all, no one likes weepy/needy Cameron, right? (Barf.)

I used a lot of different songs in here. I should list them (Oh, last chapter the song was Sister by She Wants Revenge). Okay, so I'll go in order of use so no one gets confused:

Take Me Anywhere - Tegan and Sara  
Both Hands - Ani Difranco  
Blue Jeans - Silvertide  
Pull My Hair - Bright Eyes  
Flesh Mechanic - Placebo  
Miss Behavin' - Emery  
Beating Hearts Baby - Head Automatica  
Still Breathing - Cauterize

Kay. Reviews please. 


	11. Authors Note Info On Second Part

hey guys. it's your favorite house and cameron author (hah, a little self-depriciating humour there). i'm just leaving this author's note to tell you there will for sure be a second part to this story. it's going to be called Dedication and it will for sure be up some time this weekend. again, thanks for all the reviews on this and i hope you'll join me for the next part.

oh and as a side note, i have an office (pam/jim) one-shot called Two Sets Of Footsteps and an ongoing Pam/Jim story called Ragamuffin Lips (which i'm still waiting for that bolt of inspiration). so if you like JAM, check it out. 

remember : Dedication. and it will be sometime this weekend. probably tomorrow night if i can manage it. 


End file.
